Harry Potter, the Snake, and the Hat
by Proud Mudblood
Summary: What if Harry had brought the boa constrictor from the zoo home with him? What would change? Eventual H/Hr/L, rated T for now, just in case. Now in response to DrgnMstr's Challenge!
1. After the Zoo

**A/N: I had _yet another_ idea. At this rate, I'll never be able to finish a story.**

**This is basically just an introductory chapter. Anything good will come later. Oh, and (A-B) are directly from the Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone.**

* * *

It was Dudley's eleventh birthday, and the Dursleys had been forced to bring one Harry Potter along with them, unable to find anyone they could have babysit him. They were currently at the zoo, and Harry had even been allowed to eat the ice cream that Dudley didn't want during lunch.

(A) After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can - but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself - no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.

It winked.

Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.

The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time.

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway." Harry asked.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there." The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil." As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come... Thanksss, amigo." The keeper of the reptile house was in shock. (B)

Harry, knowing he was going to be blamed for this, and recognizing that the snake seemed to understand him and was even able to speak back, quickly pulled himself off the ground and chased after the snake. "Wait!" He yelled after it. "Would you like to come with me, instead? I know you probably want to go to Brazil, but it's several hundred miles away."

The snake paused, and tilted its head as though thinking. The surrounding people stared in awe as a young boy and a snake appeared to have a conversation. When the snake seemed to nod and hiss something to the boy before slithering up to drape itself around his shoulders, it was a good bet that the Obliviators were going to be busy. When the boy hissed something to the snake, causing the snake to nod again and slither inside the boy's overly large shirt, no one who knew about Obliviators would bet against it.

Harry winced as the snake coiled about bruises and scars, but he was also aware that he'd been away from his relatives for too long, and rushed back to them.

Upon spotting Harry, Vernon Dursley roughly grabbed his arm and hissed into his ear, "I know you had something to do with this boy! You and your _freakishness_! We'll discuss it at home!"

Harry was well aware that he was more likely to be beaten than anything else, but nodded docilely, answering with the correct response of, "Yes, Uncle Vernon."

The very large man just grunted in response and began dragging him towards the car, where Petunia, Piers, and Dudley were already waiting.

During the car ride, Harry began to become more and more afraid; normally, when Uncle Vernon was angry, he would yell and bluster, and smack Harry around a time or two. When he was silent, like he was now, the beating was far more painful with more lasting damage. The only thing preventing full blown panic was the snake wrapped around his torso. The only noise came when the three Dursleys dropped off Piers and said goodbye.

Finally, they reached Number 4, and Vernon dragged Harry inside. As soon as the door was closed, a large, meaty fist connected to Harry's head causing stars and stumbling. Vernon had raised his hand to strike the freak again when the previously hidden boa constrictor made it's presence known by popping its head above Harry's collar and hissing at them, "Leave the Speaker alone!"

They may have been completely incapable of understanding the snake (or compassion, or morality...) but even they could see that a snake hissing at them threateningly was bad. And that it seemed to be protecting the freak made it worse, causing the Dursleys to freeze.

Petunia was the first one to react, and, predictably, she screamed.

Petunia's scream seemed to jolt Vernon into action. He lunged for Harry, only to leap back when the snake hissed angrily at him. Only Harry understood what the snake said, causing him to attempt to stifle a laugh.

"What's so funny freak?" Vernon demanded angrily, looking like he wanted to attack again.

Harry started to stutter, "N-n-noth-thing," when the snake hissed again. Though the three Dursleys had no idea what the snake was hissing, the effect on Harry was immediate, as he stood up straighter and said firmly, "Aesira, that's the snake, said, 'Back away from my hatchling, you fat tub of lard!'"

Vernon had been called a lot of things, but very rarely had it been to his face, and never by his nephew, so, despite the snake's warning, Vernon roared in anger and lunged at Harry again. Aesira reacted immediately by leaping forward and sinking her fangs into the muscles in Vernon's shoulders. Now, boa constrictors may not be poisonous, or have the largest fangs in the world, but having _anything_ pierce your muscle hurts, as Vernon could now attest.

When the snake bit into his uncle, Harry crouched, prepared to run for it. But Vernon was screaming in pain, Petunia had fainted, and Dudley had wet himself and was trying to hide, which caused Harry to stifle a laugh again. "I think he gets the message, Aesira," he hissed after a moment.

Aesira reluctantly withdrew her fangs, hissing back petulantly, "But he'd be tasty with all that fat."

Harry laughed, but it brought to mind another issue. "Hmmm, we will need to get you food."

"Don't worry, hatchling," Aesira hissed, "I was fed yesterday, and won't need food for another month."

"Really?" Harry asked, still completely clueless to the fact that he was hissing. "What did they feed you that will last for an entire month?"

"Three mice," Aesira answered.

"That lasts you for a month?" Harry asked, amazed.

Aesira nodded, and opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the now-awake Petunia, who couldn't hold her curiosity any longer. "What are you saying?" She asked fearfully.

Harry gave her a strange questioning look, before seeming to start and shrink on himself, answering submissively, "I was asking Aesira about her diet." He desperately wanted to ask why she couldn't understand him, but questions had been forcibly discouraged for Harry in the Dursley household.

Aesira could sense the sudden submission of her human, and repeated her words from earlier. "Stand up straight, and do not be afraid. I will protect you."

Harry didn't react as immediately as he had the first time, but, slowly, he _did_ straighten up. And, after a moment's hesitation, asked his aunt, "Why can't you understand me?"

His aunt gave him a look. One that said she wished to beat him for asking a question, but was afraid of the snake. Her answer held a note of contempt and condescension, like someone humoring a deranged criminal. "You're hissing."

Harry visibly started-which was unusual for him. "I'm hissing?" He whispered quietly to himself. "How can I be hissing and not realize I'm hissing?" He puzzled over it for a moment, before simply chalking it up to being one of the many strange things that happened around him. He also finally realized that Aesira was very heavy, since she was made almost entirely of muscle, and he needed to put her down. So he headed to his cupboard. Aesira, of course, watched his back.

Of course, when they reached the cupboard, Aesira was not happy. She may not know much about how humans lived, but she knew that 'her hatchling' needed more space than he currently had, and demanded that he force his relatives to give him more space. Despite Aesira's protective presence, Harry still needed a few moments before he could actually bring himself to go to his relatives.

"Ummm...Aesira says that she refuses to sleep in the cupboard, and that she refuses to let me sleep in there, as well. She says she wants us to have more space," Harry said to his aunt; he knew Uncle Vernon was far more vicious than she was.

As though to prove his point, Vernon answered before Petunia could, yelling, "If you want more space, go outside! Leave! Don't come back!"

"Vernon!" His wife reprimanded him sharply, "You know we can't do that!" Vernon looked unhappy and grumbled a bit, but nodded grudgingly. Turning back to Harry, Petunia stiffly told him, "You can have Dudley's second bedroom-but you have to clean it yourself!"

Harry felt an instant of ecstatic surprise, but nothing gave it away to his three brutal tormentors; he had spent too long playing the beaten, downtrodden, child for Aesira to change him immediately, if at all. All they saw was a child upset about having more work to do as he dutifully replied, "Yes, Aunt Petunia." And since the Dursleys were some sick individuals, this made them very happy. Or at least, it would have, if Vernon didn't have puncture wounds to his shoulder and Dudley didn't reek of piss. As it was, they were only slightly cheered up to see Harry walk towards the stairs with a bowed head.

* * *

**A/N 2: This story is a response to DrgnMstr's challenge in The Sorting Hat's Stand.**

**Details of the challenge:**

**1. The Sorting Hat notices Harry's abuse, and calls for a Healer and the Head of the DMLE**

**2. There is no way to get around contacting these people.**

**3. The sorting will only continue once Harry is in the hands of the DMLE/Healer**

**4. Dumbledore can be blind good guy to Dark villain**

**5. Harry must be freed from the Dursleys, and they cannot escape punishment**

**6. Any ship accepted, but threesome or multi with Hermione preferable**

**7. Harry should get help throughout the years from the Sorting Hat or Hogwarts**

**8. If horcruxes are done Harry's scar CAN NOT be one, because Lily's protection won't allow it**

**9. No Deathly Hallows!**

**10. No Evil!Harry, Grey!Harry or Light!Harry acceptable, as long as he is good**


	2. Diagon Alley

The last month and a day had been the best that Harry had ever spent at Number 4 Privet Drive; he was still cooking breakfast and dinner, he still had to wear the castoffs from Dudley, and he was still gardening, but he wasn't getting beaten, he wasn't getting thrown in his cupboard, he wasn't being starved, and he was even allowed to actually try in school, though he wisely chose not to until next year, since suddenly getting good grades on the end of year exams would look suspicious.

But today, July 24, 1991, Harry Potter had, for the very first time, received a letter. He could tell from the look on his uncle's face that his relatives didn't want him to have it, but they didn't really have a say anymore as far as Harry was concerned.

At the same time, though, he really didn't want to deal with the glares, so he walked out of the house and went to his usual hiding spot-the library. The local librarian was the only adult in the neighborhood who didn't believe that Harry was a hooligan, and was more than happy to allow him in the library, even with Aesira in tow. She suspected how Harry was treated, but every time she reported her suspicions, nothing happened. After more than a dozen attempts, she had stopped trying, and simply let him take shelter in her library. At six feet, four inches tall, the woman of German descent would have been imposing, but with her dirty blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a figure that most heterosexual males drooled over, most people tended to ignore her impressive height.

"Hello, Ms. Hafen," Harry greeted her politely, as always.

"Hello, Harry," the librarian greeted him back with a smile. "Which topic do you plan on learning today?" Ever since Harry had discovered the library three years ago, he had put every effort that he wasn't allowed to in school to teaching himself new things. He had just made it to calculus in mathematics, , he had already taught himself biology and half of chemistry in science, he had taught himself Spanish, French, and German, and he was working on Russian, though he didn't know how his pronunciation was. He was practically the poster boy for children prodigies. The only thing he avoided was History, because it bored the crap out of him.

"I think I'll work on calculus today," Harry replied after a moment's thought. He liked numbers; they were constant, and you could use them in countless ways.

Ms. Hafen's smile grew-she knew how much he enjoyed mathematics. "Well, you know were to find the materials."

Harry nodded, smiling back at the only adult to have ever helped him, and ambled towards the bookshelves. Ms. Hafen watched him go, and shook her head when Aesira poked her head out from Harry's overly large shirt. She couldn't understand how he could talk to the snake-or even lift it-but he had proven it. Apparently, Aesira was able to tell Harry what scent body wash, shampoo, and perfume she used, as well as the last thing she had eaten. She didn't understand it, but she was rather envious of him.

Surprisingly, Harry didn't actually head directly to the bookshelves as he usually did; instead, he headed towards 'his' table. Ms. Hafen watched as he pulled out a letter and his eyebrow slowly rose. She thought that it must be shocking to get that kind of reaction; she had trouble getting more than a polite smile out of him, and most people got a blank expression. She suspected that the Dursleys got a feigned submissive and beaten look from him, but she couldn't prove it. So arching an eyebrow indicated, for Harry, a lot of shock.

Her curiosity now roused, she watched as the the child that she had grown fond of slowly got up from the table and headed towards her, letter in hand. "Ms. Hafen," Harry began when he reached, only to hesitate. "I...well, I got an interesting letter today." And he handed it over.

The friendly librarian took with her own raised eyebrow, and Harry could hear her muttering some of its contents under her breath. "Witchcraft and wizardry?... Await your owl?... _Dragon hide_?... Transfiguration?... A cauldron?" Finally, she looked up, a little bewildered. "Are you sure this isn't a joke?"

Harry nodded slowly. "It would explain some things. My teacher's hair turning blue. My ending up on the school roof. Being able to talk to and carry Aesira. Just for starters."

It was Ms. Hafen's turn to nod slowly. "True... Well, they have an address for the main entrance..." she checked the parchment, "Diagon Alley, so we can check it out tomorrow after I get out of work." She watched Harry's face light up in delighted surprise for an instant before that got ruthlessly shut down. Both reactions saddened her; the first, because it was to something so simple; and the second, because shutting an emotion down that quickly takes both necessity and practice.

"You'd come with me?" The buried longing in his voice tugged at her heartstrings, and she nodded, not trusting herself to speak just yet. "Thank you." Ms. Hafen just nodded silently again, sure that the precious child's eyes were glistening slightly as he headed back to his table to study calculus.

* * *

The next day, Harry was up bright and early, excited about the possibilities that the letter presented to him. Intellectually, he knew that it was quite possible that it was all a joke, but the scared little boy inside him that desperately wanted to be saved shut that thought down, leaving him acting like a four-year-old on a sugar high.

He spent the day in the library, attempting to learn more Russian, but spending most of his time glancing at the clock as he waited for Ms. Hafen's work day to end.

Finally, at four o'clock, her day was over and she was shepherding the excited ten-year-old towards her car, laughing at his enthusiasm and praying silently that Fate wasn't being exceedingly cruel to a child she cared about. It was the very first time he'd ever displayed this much emotion, and she feared that finding out this was false would completely break him.

* * *

It was just over an hour later that the pair was circling the block for the second time, when Harry finally spotted the number on a tiny, grubby-looking place.

Ms. Hafen eyed it warily (it looked like the seedy place people were told to avoid) but simply nodded and followed Harry, a bit nervous about entering a world that could-and probably would-dispel much of what she previously thought she knew.

There came a point for the librarian that she couldn't really see Harry, only feel his hand for a moment, and then that hand was pulling on her and she found herself in a grubby little pub. Looking arouns, she saw glasses being cleaned by rags on their own, drinks pouring themselves, and trash casually vanishing at the wave of a wand. Despite the shabby appearance, she was ultimately relieved that Harry would, at long last, be granted some type of escape.

Before she knew it, Harry had dragged her to the bartender and was asking how to get into Diagon Alley.

Rather than answer immediately, the bartender stared intently at Harry, and the people around him, including Harry and Ms. Hafen, heard him saying in a very shocked-sounding voice, "You look just like James! Welcome back, Mr. Potter!"

Immediately, whispers started breaking out in the immediate vicinity.

"Potter?"

"Did he say Potter?"

"As in Harry Potter?"

"Not _the_ Harry Potter?"

"Yes, yes, it must be! It's the correct year for him to go to Hogwarts!"

This last 'whisper' seemed to encourage people, and Harry and Ms. Hafen found themselves surrounded by apparent well-wishers. However, their plans were thwarted by Harry, who was, unfortunately, used to attention being quite painful. The mob soon found themselves held at bay by an invisible, but extraordinarily powerful, barrier unconsciously made by a frightened ten-year-old.

Their attempt was further thwarted by the suddenly intimidating librarian who stepped in front of him protectively, levelling a rather vicious glare at everyone. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She demanded angrily. She was rather upset that what should have been a day of escape for Harry had turned into him being mobbed and terrified.

A rather brave soul responded, "We just wanted to thank him!"

There were nods and general murmurs of agreement to that statement, but Ms. Hafen was having none of it. "Well, you can thank him by leaving him alone!"

The same brave soul as before spoke up again. "And who are you to tell us to leave him alone?"

Again, nods and general murmurs agreed to that statement, but this time, the murmurs were starting to sound disgruntled, bordering on angry. The fiercely protective woman opened her mouth to retort, but what that retort might have been became lost when the object of the argument injected himself into it.

Harry had seen how quickly the mob had become angry, so, in an effort to avoid violence, he stepped forward, albeit awkwardly. He had, after forcing his panic down, quickly come to the conclusion that he was apparently famous, though for what, he had no idea, since he couldn't have been older than sixteen months when he had been removed from the magical world. So he simply answered, "She's my liaison," and stepped back behind her.

Apparently, this simple statement had the desired effect, and the crowd grudgingly went back to what they had been doing before-though they did keep their eyes on the young celebrity. Very few felt the invisible barrier fall as Harry and his newly appointed liaison turned back to the guilty looking bartender.

"Sorry about that, folks, I wasn't expeccting quite that much of a reaction."

Ms. Hafen, continuing the act of being Harry's liaison, took it from here. "It's alright, Mr...?"

"Tom," he supplied helpfully, "just Tom."

"Tom," Ms. Hafen continued. "Could you please explain to us why Harry is famous, and then how to get into Diagon Alley?"

Tom's eyes sharpened; he may be a bartender, but that didn't mean he stupid. "So..." he said slowly, "I assume you're not actually Mr. Potter's liaison?"

Ms. Hafen internally cursed her slipped, but, like Harry, nothing showed on the outside. "What would make you say such a thing?"

"Well," Tom began, organising his thoughts, "If you were his liaison, he would have need of a liaison, and he would have known of his need for a liaison. In this case, he would to know that he was famous. Since he doesn't _why_ he is famous, it stands to reason that he didn't know beforehand."

"Well reasoned," Ms. Hafen responded with a small, tight, smile. "No, I am not his liaison. I'm merely an adult that cares for him."

Tom nodded thoughtfully, almost to himself, before heading towards a door in the back and gesturing for the two to follow him. "The entrance to the Alley is through here. Head to _Flourish and Blotts, _the bookstore, to find out why Mr. Potter here is famous."

Both adults heard Harry mutter sarcastically to himself, "Oh, goody, there's a book about me," as Tom opened the door, but neither commented.

The two newcomers to the magical world watched as Tom tapped on the wall in a specific pattern, (which seemed pointless, since anyone who didn't know about it couldn't get in, anyway) and the wall opened up. Ms. Hafen forced herself to remain impassive, while Harry merely raised an eyebrow at the sight of the Alley.

"I would suggest going to Gringotts first," Tom told them. "It's the Wizarding Bank, and the shops won't take muggle money."

"Muggle?" Harry asked.

"Non-magical people," Tom explained. Harry and Ms. Hafen nodded.

"Thanks for the help," Ms. Hafen said to Tom as Harry began to head into the Alley.

"Any time," Tom called back as the wall started to close.

As recommended, the first thing that Harry and his pseudo-guardian did was search for Gringotts. Fortunately, it was probably the biggest building in the Alley, and thus, found easily. After reading the ominous warning, the boy and the librarian found themselves overwhelmed by the fact that the bank seemed to be run by a completely different species.

"I wonder what they are," Harry muttered to himself.

"We are goblins, Mr. Potter," said a surly voice from behind the pair, causing them to jump and whirl around.

"I apologize, my question was born of ignorance, my intention was not to insult you," Harry said, thinking that the surliness was born of irritation.

The goblin raised one hairless eyebrow. "Interesting. Perhaps, Mr. Potter, we could discuss that later."

Harry nodded, before switching topics. "Did you know my name due to my newly discovered fame, or was there something else?"

The still unnamed goblin gave a tight-lipped smile. "Your parents were well-known among the goblins for their support of our desire to be treated equally. You look very much like your father, with your mother's eyes."

Harry felt like the world had been tipped over, and he was scrabbling to stay on it. "You knew my parents?" The goblin nodded. "Can you tell me about them?"

The goblin narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps later. For now, would you like to go to your vault?"

"My vault? What vault?"

"The vault your parents left you," the goblin said slowly.

Ms. Hafen, seeing that Harry was shell-shocked, answered for him, "Could you please take us to his vault?"

The goblin nodded, but explained, "I'll need his key first."

"Key? I don't have a key."

The goblin nodded, not appearing surprised. "Given your earlier revelations, I shouldn't be surprised. Follow me, I'll make sure you're really Harry James Potter and, once it is proven that you are, a new key will be made, and the old one will disappear. Any money taken from a vault is tracked until it returns to a vault here, so if anything was taken, we shall soon know."

Harry was impressed. "How do you do that?"

"Goblin tracking charms. Each coin is made with them."

Harry frowned. "Aren't you worried about telling me this? What if I counter the charms?"

"You can't. This charm is tied into the coin; anything that happens to the charm is then applied to the coin. Should you remove it, the coin is destroyed. Should you try and confuse the charm, no one will recognize the coin."

"Wow. That's quite impressive."

Ms. Hafen watched with a small smile as Harry displayed what was, for him, a large amount of enthusiasm while discussing the charm on the coins, and how it worked. Or at least, as much as they could while Harry had no knowledge of magic.

Soon enough, they odd trio arrived in an office. Well, the two humans were pretty sure it was an office, anyway, as it looked like the typical office. But they _were_ dealing with a different species, and, thus, slightly unsure.

Thankfully for their sanities, the goblin sat behind the desk, and gestured for them to sit in the two chairs across from him, seeming to confirm that it was an office. And then, as though to confuse them, he pulled out a piece of old-fashioned looking paper, a bowl, a knife, and a small bit of silvery metal. He placed the bowl on the desk, put the metal in it, continued to hold the knife in his left hand, and then held out his right to Harry, who stared back at him blankly.

Ms. Hafen heard him mutter to himself, "Right, right, he doesn't know anything," before continuing louder, "I just need a sample of your blood, which will then go into the bowl. If you'll notice, there are carvings around the rim." Both looked, and found that there were. "These carvings are not for decoration, they are a branch of magic known as Runes. The Runes will search for every vault you are connected to by blood, and then make a key for each vault you either have access to, or will have access to, out of the metal in the bowl. Should there be no vault that you have access to, the blood will simply vanish.

"I shall know which vaults you have access to by this piece of paper, which, again, has Runes written around the edges. Assuming that you have at least one key, I will simply press that key to the parchment, and, since the key has your blood in it, it will tell me both the vault number, and the family that the vault once belonged to that you inherited.

"Do you have any questions?"

"One," Harry said. "Since you're going to be holding a knife to me, could I at least get your name?"

The goblin smiled without showing any teeth. "Certainly, Mr. Potter. You may call me Grimclaw."

Harry nodded and held his left hand out to the newly named Grimclaw. Well, newly named to them, at least.

Grimclaw swiftly, but delicately, drew the blade across Harry's palm, and carefully watched as a few a small puddle of blood formed around the small metal before the cut on Harry's hand healed.

Grimclaw raptly watched the inside of the bowl, while the two who were still unfamiliar with magic were awed by the way Harry's hand healed.

"Good!" Grimclaw exclaimed suddenly, startling the pair and drawing their attention back to the goblin and his bowl.

Inside the aforementioned bowl, instead of the chunk of metal that was there previously, there were four keys. "That is the correct number of keys for the Potter heir, now we just need to confirm that they go to the correct vaults." Harry and Ms. Hafen nodded, watching closely in the hope to see something special as Grimclaw placed each key on the parchment. As they watched, they were fascinated to watch writing appear next to each key. When it was done, he turned the paper towards them.

_Trust Vault for Harry James Potter-Vault #687  
Potter Family Vault-Vault #13  
Gryffindor Family Vault-Vault #6  
Slytherin Family Vault-Vault #4_

"Gryffindor? Slytherin? Who are they?" Harry asked as he looked up from the parchment.

"Your ancestors. Or at least, your ancestors that were important enough to have bank accounts back then. They are also two of the four founders of the school you're headed to."

"Oh," Harry answered simply.

"Indeed," Grimclaw said, smirking internally. "Shall we preoceed to your trust vault?" Harry nodded mutely.

Harry and Ms. Hafen once again found themselves following a goblin-right up until the librarian saw the cart.

"Ms. Hafen?" Harry asked when he noticed that she was no longer with them.

"Yes?" She asked, looking a bit pale, and staring at the cart.

"Are you alright? You look a little pale."

"Yeah...uhh...why don't you go on without me?"

Harry, finally figuring out that she was afraid of the cart, was about to nod when Grimclaw interrupted, "I'm afraid that Mr. Potter cannot continue onward without an adult present."

Ms. Hafen somehow managed to pale further and gulp, before nodding and squeaking out faintly, "O-okay."

Harry, moving slowly, gently-and a little fearfully-took her hand, and gently led her into the cart. Had Ms. Hafen not had such a phobia about the cart, she would have been ecstatic that Harry managed to overcome his fear of contact. Since she was terrified out of her mind, she simply clutched tighter, especially when the cart took off. Harry, on the other hand, was wearing a large grin.

When the cart finally stopped, Harry had to lead the shaken librarian out of it, just as he had led her into it.

When the duo reached the vault door, they found that Grimclaw had already opened it, and stared at the inside in awe. There were hills of gold, mounds of silver, and heaps of bronze almost completely filling the vault.

"I'm guessing the gold ones are the most valuable?" Harry half-asked, half-stated to Grimclaw.

"Ah, right. I need to explain wizarding money. Each galleon, one of the gold ones, is equal to seventeen of the silver ones, which are called sickles. In turn, one sickle is the equivalent of twenty-nine knuts, which I'm fairly certain that you can figure out are the bronze ones."

"Indeed," Harry replied with a slight smirk. "Thank you for all of your help today."

Grimclaw waved it away. "I was just doing my job. I still am, actually."

Harry nodded, and moved into the vault. He counted out thirty galleons, sixteen sickles, and twenty-eight sickles before the trio turned and headed back to the cart. Once again, Harry found himself leading Ms. Hafen to and from the cart, but this time, he didn't let go of her hand once she had recovered. He was enjoying the feeling of having a mother figure for the day, and thankfully, she didn't seem like she was going to let go, either.

After repeating his thanks to Grimclaw, who waved it away again, Harry pulled the only adult he trusted back into the alley. "So what should we get first?" Harry asked, looking around the Alley with an expression that, on most people, would mean mild curiosity, but, for Harry, meant that he was practically forcing himself not to run around and examine everything.

"Let's take a look at the list again," Ms. Hafen suggested. Harry nodded, pulling out the piece of parchment, and both read it.

**Uniform**  
First-year students will require:  
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
Please note that all pupils' clothing should carry name tags

**Course Books  
**All students should have a copy of eavh of the following:  
1. _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _by Miranda Goshawk  
2. _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot  
3. _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling  
4. _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch  
5. _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore  
6. _Magical Draughts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger  
7. _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander  
8. _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble

**Other Equipment  
**1 Wand  
1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set of glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set of brass scales  
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"I'm thinking that I should get my robes first so I fit in better, then my wand because it seems important, and then the cauldron. I can then store all the other stuff inside the cauldron," Harry said after a moment of contemplation.

Ms. Hafen thought about what he said for a moment, and agreed. "You should get the phials last so that they're less likely to break," she added. Harry nodded in agreement before once again pulling her through the Alley until they found the robe shop, Madame Malkin's.

"Here for your Hogwart's robes, dear?" A squat, smiling woman in mauve robes asked from where she was measuring a bushy-haired brunette girl. Behind the woman were three people; one of them was a rather stern looking woman wearing robes like most of the rest of the Alley, and the other two were wearing normal clothes and were clearly the girl's parents.

Harry nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Well, step up here, I'll measure you when I'm done here."

Harry nodded, and stepped up on the platform where Madame Malkin was measuring the girl. Seeing an opportunity to make a friend, he spoke to the girl. "Hi, I'm Harry."

"Hermione," the girl said with a shy smile.

"This is Aesira," Harry said as the snake brought her head out of his collar, having woken up from her nap.

Hermione 'eeped.' "You have a snake?" She looked worried.

"Don't worry, she's very friendly, and quite protective of me," Harry tried to reassure her. §Aren't you, Aesira?§ He hissed.

The snake gave a very human-like nod, causing Hermione to gasp. "You can talk to snakes?" She almost looked reverent.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I don't even know I'm doing it, really, I had to be told that I was hissing when it first happened."

* * *

While Hermione was becoming acquainted with her first friend, Emma Granger pulled the woman that had come with the boy aside. But before she could say anything, McGonagall did. "Who are you? I know you're not Harry's guardian..."

"My name is Grace Hafen," the tall woman cut her off, on guard. "Who are you, and how do you know that?"

"I'm Professor McGonagall, and I was there when we left Harry with his Aunt and Uncle, so I know-"

CRACK!

Emma watched, shocked, as the woman she had pulled aside slapped the professor.

"Do you have _any_ idea what those animals put him through?" Grace hissed at McGonagall.

McGonagall, who was holding her stinging cheek with a shocked look on her face, stammered out, "I, you, what?"

"It's true," Emma cut in, also looking angry at the professor. "His clothes are far too big for him, his face is almost completely blank, which means he's probably suppressing his emotions, and, if you look closely, he twitches every time someone touches him. I pulled Grace over here because I thought it was her who was abusing him." Turning back to Grace, she asked, "Why didn't you report anything?"

"I did," Grace sighed. "At least a dozen times. But it seemed that it was forgotten every time."

"But what about his teachers? I mean, they're trained to notice this stuff as much as we are!" Emma gestured between her and Dan.

Grace shook her head. "They seem to believe that bullshit the Dursleys are spreading that he's some kind of criminal."

"Well, at least he trusts you. That's a good start," Emma encouraged.

Grace nodded, but her eyes were sad as she gazed at the pair of children who seemed oblivious to the confrontation. Then, suddenly, she spun back to McGonagall. "Professor, why are you here?"

But it was Dan who answered, "She brought us Hermione's letter, and brought us here. Why?"

"Because Harry didn't get such treatment, he just got a letter," Grace replied a little stiffly, still glaring at McGonagall. First, dropping him off at those things' house, and now this!

"I-I don't know," McGonagall answered looking startled and confused. "Most people assume he's been raised with magic, but I guess I assumed that his aunt, at least, would know where to take him. She came with Lily during her years at Hogwarts."

Grace nodded, appeased about that, at least, before asking another question. "How will Harry get to Hogwarts?"

McGonagall thought about that for a moment, before replying, "I'll pick him up and bring him to the station with everyone else."

"The station?"

"The train station. The platform for the Hogwarts Express is through an illusion of a wall with mild muggle-repelling charms so that they don't lean on it by accident."

"Muggle?"

"People who can't do magic," Dan supplied instead of the professor.

"Right, right." She remembered being told that, now. "One last question. Could Harry bring a snake instead of one of the other three?"

"I suppose so. Why?" McGonagall answered after a moment.

"Harry's rather fond of Aesira. And apparently, she calls him her hatchling."

"Can Harry talk to the snake?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes. Why do you look worried about it?"

"People tend to view that inherited ability as Dark. I would advise him to hide it, if possible."

"It's a bit late for that. He's already introduced her to Hermione," Grace said, gesturing towards the children. Three heads snapped towards the children, and indeed, a large snake head was poking out of Harry's shirt. Since it was right in front of Madame Malkin, the chances of keeping this silent had dropped from okay to none.

"That snake must be massive," Dan commented. "How does he carry it?"

"I don't know," Grace answered. "He thinks it has something to do with magic, and it was one of the resons he believed that the letter wasn't a hoax."

"I'll scan the snake after they're done," McGonagall decided.

Mere moments after saying that, the pair of children hopped off the platform and headed towards the four adults. "Harry," Professor McGonagall, started, "can you ask Aesira if she minds if I scan her?"

Harry looked to Grace, who nodded, and then hissed the question to Aesira. The adults stared as the serpent gave a very human nod, and McGonagall slowly waved the wand over Harry's torso, where the snake was clearly wrapped around him. "_Specialis Revelio_," she said as she waved the wand. A moment later, she informed the waiting people, "Well, Aesira has been magically lightened, which isn't that unusual on objects, but never works on living things. And, even more oddly, it's permanent."

"That's it?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

There didn't seem to be anything else to say; Grace informed Harry that McGonagall would pick him up to bring him to the platform, and Harry and Hermione promised to meet each other there before the two parties went their separate ways since Hermione already had her wand.

* * *

It took them a little while, and Harry would later swear that they went in at least five circles, but they finally found Ollivander's shop and headed in.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," a soft voice said from behind them, causing the two to jump and spin around. The old man with his pale eyes continued speaking, as though he didn't realize he had just scared two people. "Yes, I suspected I'd be seeing you soon. You're mother had very nice wand for Charms. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow, with a unicorn hair core. Your father had a mahogany wand with a griffin feather, eleven inches long, and pliable. It was a little more powerful, and excellent for Transfiguration. Let us see what wand chooses you." And with those words, the old man that the two assumed was Mr. Ollivander disappeared into the back, only to reappear moments later, carrying a wand, which he promptly handed to Harry. "Give it a wave."

And that's what Harry did. For the next 35 wands. Finally, Ollivander, who had gotten happier and happier the longer they attempted to get a wand to match him, picked the final wand. "Holly with a phoenix feather core, eleven inches, nice and supple," Ollivander said, almost to himself. "How curious..."

"What's curious?" Harry asked.

"The phoenix feather in your wand, Mr. Potter, comes from the same phoenix as the feather in the same wand that gave you that scar." And one bony finger reached out to touch it...

Only for his hand to be grabbed by Ms. Hafen. "Don't touch him," she growled, appearing to startle the man.

"My apologies," he said, "I meant no disrespect."

Ms. Hafen nodded, and released him.

Harry, who had watched the scene with only a raised eyebrow, paid for the wand, and they left. Fortunately, the rest of the shopping went normally, with the exception of a scene in Flourish & Blotts where Harry threatened the shopkeeper with Aesira until he managed to stutter who 'He-Who-Must-Not-Named' was after they had read in a book why Harry was famous.

Unsurprisingly, they both promptly fell asleep when they went home, with Harry being watched over by Aesira.

* * *

**A/N: Three things:  
1. I intend for all of my chapters to be about 5,000 words now, so there may be more time between updates.  
2. No, Harry didn't get Hedwig; it was confirmed beforehand that Aesira was acceptable, so he didn't bother. Don't worry, Hedwig will still be with Harry, it will just take longer.  
3. Let me know how this chapter went, because I had a lot of trouble at some points.**


	3. I'm On My Way

Yes, I'm still here! I apologize for the long delay - my days jumped from a little over 40 hours a week to a minimum of 60, and occasionally over 70. Last week I worked over 80! But I have now changed jobs and am back to a fairly even schedule of 40 hours a week. On the downside, I had all of my files saved here on FanFiction because my computer kept crashing, and because I've been away for so long, it's all gone. I hope to review/rewrite what I have in my posted stories, and start writing the next chapters in my stories within the next 2-3 weeks, and I hope to have something posted within the next 2 months. Keep your fingers crossed!

Proud Mudblood


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